“THAT’S IT. I’M quitting school and becoming a stripper.” A fuming Amara slumps beside me.
It’s a rare occasion that Connecticut gives us nice weather, so I’m taking full advantage by sitting outside by the statue of Sir Davis Dalton. The spray painted devil horns and super-glued pitchfork are long gone, though red stains linger on some parts.
I’m guessing Amara’s meeting didn’t go well. “I thought you said you didn’t have the core strength for that.”
Sampson slides onto the bench beside me. “I wouldn’t mind a private show from you, Amara. No core strength required.”
Amara scoffs. “Like you could afford me, Sampson.” She abruptly stands. “I’ll meet you at home, Sum, far away from the scum of the earth.”
I watch her retreat, and when I turn back to Sampson he grins. “I think she likes me.”
“What do you want?”
He eyes me. “Someone’s snappy today.”
“Make one period comment and say goodbye to your hand.”
He waves his fingers in front of my face. “You’d be depriving many girls of this magic.”
“Or saving them from misery,” I mutter.
Sampson stares at me with a curious look. “How are things with your application?”
“You’re looking at a potential Stanford grad student,” I mutter.
Last week, my social media was full of students celebrating their acceptance to Dalton. I haven’t received anything, and when I talked to Langston, she said co-op applications take longer. If patience is a virtue, it’s not one I possess.
“Look at the bright side, you could be in sunny California instead of Connecticut,” he says.
Hopelessness clings to me. “My entire life is here. Every professor I’ve spent time getting to know, all my friends.” I pause to hold the emotion clogging my throat. “Aiden.”
“And me.” He smiles, failing to scatter the dark cloud looming over my head. “But Aiden is going to be in Canada. You wouldn’t be in the same place regardless.”
“Except now I could end up on the West Coast instead of a few hours away.”
“You’re going to get into Dalton, and if by some fluke you don’t, I’ll transfer to Stanford Law to keep you company.”
My heart feels like it’s no longer inside my chest. “You’d do that for me?”
“Say the word, Sparkle.”
A laugh bursts out of me. We first used that nickname in third grade after watching My Little Pony. I was Sparkle, and Sampson was Dash. “Knowing you, you would get accepted the moment you applied. But I didn’t spend my entire life hearing you talk about a Dalton Law degree for you to not get one.”
When someone calls my name, we turn to Cole Carter sprinting toward us. He slumps against the statue to catch his breath. “You are going to freak! I just saw Donny Rai.”
Seeing Cole exhibiting this much emotion is rare. He’s usually holed up in his basement with his eyes glued to a screen.
“Yeah, he goes here, buddy,” says Sampson.
Cole shakes his head. “He was at the new diner, Lola’s, in West Hartford this morning.”
“How is that news?”
“He was with Langston.” He says it like it’s a huge reveal. I glance at Sampson to make sure I’m not the only one witnessing Cole’s mental decline.
“She’s his advisor. They’re probably discussing coursework,” I say. “Sure. If the work required his tongue to be down her throat.”
I choke on my spit. “By tongue down her throat, do you mean kissing her?” I ask, my voice hoarse as Sampson pats my back.
“We both know you’re not inexperienced, Summer.” He throws me a deadpan look, but the embarrassment doesn’t even register over the revelation. “Yes, they were kissing.”
“Aren’t there policies against that?” I ask.
“Dalton banned professor-student relationships. That’s why I stick to the TAs,” says Cole. We stare at him, but he only shrugs. “So, I guess this means she’s been giving him special treatment.”
Suddenly, everything starts to make sense. “He’s trying to get the co-op. That’s why he made it so difficult for me to finish my application. Both of them did.”
“And Shannon Lee is at Princeton now, so he doesn’t need to worry about her,” adds Tyler.
A trickle of contempt leaks into my bones. “So his only other competition is me.”
“If you need proof, I took a picture.” Cole pulls out his phone to show us. They’re fully making out, and although the picture is grainy it’s clear what’s going on. “What are you going to do?”
My head feels heavy with indecision. Reporting this to the dean needs to be anonymous. But I can’t afford to be involved in this mess so close to when grad school decisions come out.
I drop my head in my hands. “I don’t know.” Sampson stands. “I have a plan.”
I peek up at him through my fingers. “A plan?”
 |
AIDEN IS ASLEEP.
In the silence of the room, it’s easy to hear his soft breaths and the faint sound of music playing somewhere in the house. I’m assuming it’s Kian’s since he just bought a new vinyl for his record player. He made it a point to tell me it was his way to block out noises coming from Aiden’s room.
My eyes catch on my glowing phone screen sitting on the nightstand, but the heavy arm over my stomach bars me from reaching for it. After dinner, Aiden dragged me upstairs, and we celebrated his game-winning goal before he fell asleep.
It was Dalton’s second game against Yale tonight, and we had the home- ice advantage. Amara came with me, though she spent most of the game taunting the Yale students. It ended with her chucking a fry at a frat guy and him simmering in anger.
Now, hoping Aiden is as exhausted as usual after a big game, I carefully lift his arm and scoot away. When he doesn’t stir, I roll off the bed and snatch my phone to send a quick text.
I shuffle around for my clothes, but they’re strewn across the room. Giving up on the futile search, I pull out my overnight bag stashed in Aiden’s closet.
With the time ticking, I get dressed and creep toward the door. The floorboards creak under my weight, sending my heart shooting out of my chest. I watch Aiden to make sure he hasn’t been awakened by the ruckus, but his even breaths fill the room without disruption.
Easing open the door without the loud creaks waking the entire house is a difficult task, but I manage it. The house is devoid of light, so I pull out my phone flashlight as a guide. I relax as I reach for the front door.
“Where are you going?”
I jump. My phone slips from my grasp and slides across the floor to land by Eli’s feet. The flashlight illuminates his face.
I clap a hand over my erratic heart. “Holy shit! You scared me.” “Sorry.” He holds my phone. “Why are you sneaking around?” “I’m not. I was just going for…a walk.”
He raises a brow in suspicion. “At two in the morning? Why are you dressed like that?”
“This is how I always dress.”
“Summer, you’re wearing gloves and a beanie. In all black.”
I forgot I stole the toque from Aiden’s dresser. I should have put it on outside. “You mean my toque?”
His eyes narrow. “Don’t try to distract me with your Canadian words.
Why are you sneaking out?”
“What about you? Is there a reason you’re awake right now?” He rubs his neck. “This isn’t about me. Where’s Aiden?”
“Asleep.” When his suspicion doesn’t ebb, I sigh. “I have to do something, and I can’t tell Aiden, or he’ll try to fix it himself.”
“What do you have to do?” “I can’t tell you either.”
“You’re not leaving the house in the middle of the night without telling anyone where you’re going.”
I stare at the time on my phone, seeing the texts from Amara and Sampson light my screen. “I swear I’ll tell you later. I really have to go.”
I turn to the door, but Eli slaps a palm over it. Just to try my luck, I pull on the handle, though it’s no use because the six-foot-four defenseman’s pinky is stronger than my entire body. I let go of the door, feeling like a toddler who’s barred from playing outside. Eli’s impatient look tells me he’s seconds away from waking Aiden to tell him his girlfriend is sneaking out in the dead of night.
“First, you have to promise not to tell Aiden.” “I can’t do that,” he says.
Sometimes, his honesty is seriously annoying. The heart of gold under all that muscle makes it impossible for him to lie. I thought giving him my most doe-eyed look would make him bend his rules a little, but I should know better.
“Fine. My advisor is hooking up with Donny Rai, and he’s rigging acceptances with her help.”
A look of disbelief clouds his features. “Did you tell the dean?”
“The dean is on sabbatical. He’s gone until the end of the month, but we’re exposing the truth from Langston’s computer.”
“Let me guess, you’re sneaking into her office to do that?” “Allegedly.”
Concern weighs heavily on his features. “You realize that’s breaking and entering, right? You could get expelled.”
“She’s put me through hell, Eli. Not only me but so many other great students. She never had any intention of letting us succeed.”
Students fought to be mentored by her. Finding out that she put her selfish needs above aspiring sports psychologists makes my blood boil. I trusted her, and she stomped on my life’s work.
He pins me with a sympathetic look, and when I turn, he stops me. “Let me grab a hoodie. I’m coming with you.”
Before I can protest, he’s gone. Only to reappear in a black toque and a hoodie to match mine. I frantically shake my head. “No. Nope, sorry. You can’t.”
“Aiden would want me to.” “Eli—”
“It’s either this or I tell him.”
He looks at me as if I’m the one who’s being dramatic.
My nerves itch at me the entire ride to campus. When we arrive, two figures stand by the building watching our approach.
“This isn’t really a plus one event, Summer.” Sampson looks annoyed, and Amara’s blush grows when she sees Eli.
“He caught me on the way out. It was either him or Aiden.” Eli waves with an easy smile. “Hey, guys.”
Amara greets him and I’ve never seen Sampson look this vexed. He slows to match my stride. “Your overprotective boyfriend would have been preferred,” he mutters and stops in front of us. “There are cameras on the north side of the building. This is the only entrance without any. If we’re quiet, we’ll be fine.”
“Two huge hockey players are anything but inconspicuous,” Amara says, eyeing the building.
“Good to know you’re thinking about my physique, Evans.” “Only in my nightmares.”
I break up their stare down before they bicker the entire night. “Do we have a key?” I shuffle through my coin purse and pull out my student ID. “If not we can try jamming this in there.”
Amara shakes her head. “That won’t work, it’s electronic. We’ll have to break it.” She slides a mini crowbar from her sleeve.
We all take a step back.
“We are not using weapons.” Sampson snatches her crowbar. “Unlike you three, I came prepared.” He waves an access badge.
“Where did you get that?”
“Some post-doc student. She worked for admin.” An administrative badge won’t alert the school systems like a student badge would.
“She just gave it to you?” asks Amara. “No one is immune to my charm.”
“I must be an anomaly then.” “Or in denial.”
The scanner flashes green, ending their back and forth. “I’ll get into her computer,” Amara whispers. “You guys search for Donny’s file to see if there’s anything in there we can use.”
Eli stands by the door. “I’ll watch for security. You guys get what you need.”
I stop him with a hand on his shoulder. “You can still bail, Eli.” “Not a chance.” He disappears down the hall.
When I think back to my therapist’s words, I realize she was right. I was missing out on having caring friends. The foreign feeling settles into the
warmth of my stomach.
When we’re inside Langston’s office, Amara goes straight for her computer. It’s only a few minutes later that she beckons us over. “I got it,” Amara whispers.
We huddle around the computer, as she navigates to her email. The plan is to write an email from Langston’s account to all the undergrads, and one to Dean Hutchins. Amara attaches the picture Cole supplied to both emails and sets it to send out on Monday morning.
She populates a new document and types out another paragraph. “Who is this for?” I ask.
“Dalton’s gossip page.” She smiles. “It’ll go live when the email is sent out. Just in case the school tries to hide this.”
Sampson looks impressed, and when Amara sees his expression she rolls her eyes. But I don’t miss her blush.
When she powers down the computer a cool feeling of vindication drips into my system.
We sneak out of Langston’s office, and Eli signals for us to duck when flashlights pierce through the windows. My breath gets stuck in my throat until the security guard passes by the building. We scurry to the alley we parked in and trickle off in silence.
At three a.m. Eli and I sneak back into the house. I engulf him in a grateful hug before I head upstairs. Slipping under the covers, I curl up with Aiden, who unconsciously pulls me closer. He looks so peaceful, I’m glad I didn’t burden him with this risky plan.
Aiden tends to carry everyone’s problems. As much as I love him for being a protector, I never want to be another person he risks everything for. He’s already done enough by taking on his entire team’s punishment for the trash fiasco. Once this is all sorted, he’ll be the first person I confide in.
In the meantime, I just need to swallow the doomed feeling trying to crawl out of my throat.
